


Primp

by yeaka



Category: Halt and Catch Fire
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Vignette, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23662330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Cameron’s a mess.
Relationships: Donna Clark/Cameron Howe
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	Primp

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Halt and Catch Fire or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Mutiny’s a mess, like it always is, but it’s slowly becoming a second _home_ , so Donna bottles her complaints as she steps over the cesspool of sweaty jackets and crumpled pizza boxes and shed feathers. She doesn’t have to ask anyone where Cameron is, because she can hear the telltale pounding beat of Cameron’s ever-loud music. She makes it to the makeshift office and doesn’t even bother knocking. 

She pushes inside, the door caught on an overturned box, and enters with the utmost care so the door won’t slam shut behind her and catch on her wings. She’s the only person at Mutiny that still has _presentable_ foliage, and that’s not going to change. Cameron’s hunched over by her desk, knees drawn up to her chest and sneakers perched on the edge of her chair. Her fingers fly across the keyboard, eyes fixed on the screen, giant headphones around her neck even though her speakers are blasting away. What Donna’s eyes fix on is the sorry set of mottled wings half bent around the back of the chair. 

All the suggestions for Community flitter out of Donna’s head. Instincts take over, made worse by how much she _cares_ about Cameron, and how _irritating_ it is to have someone she loves taking such poor care of themselves. It’s Gordon-in-a-rut all over again. With a long-suffering sigh, Donna marches over and rounds on her business partner. There was a time when she liked to keep her nails manicured. Now they’re perpetually blunted down and faded from work. They’re still delicate and dexterous enough for intricate things like this. She dives in to the tangle of Cameron’s feathers and busily smoothes and sorts, righting all the askew tufts. 

Cameron rustles beneath her, finally noticing her presence. “Hey, what’re you—”

“How could you let them get this bad, Cam? Honestly!” If one of the kids came home like this, Donna would have a heart attack. It’s no wonder she never sees Cameron flying. She plucks a stray twig out and actually groans. 

Cameron bristles under the attention. One of her wings flaps, jerking out of Donna’s grasp, but Donna grabs it back when it’s done. Cameron rolls her eyes over her shoulder and scoffs, “Sorry, _Mom_.”

Donna freezes. Stiff as a board, she shoots Cameron a wounded look. She coldly mutters, “Don’t do that. You know I hate it.” She’s not Cameron’s _mom_. And it always comes out of Cameron’s mouth like an _insult_. Like that’s _all_ Donna is.

She knows Cameron values her past her maternal instincts. She does know that. But sometimes the nagging doubt creeps in, and Cameron’s childish attitude doesn’t help. 

At least Cameron always softens when Donna’s clearly _hurt._ She shrugs her shoulders awkwardly and mumbles, “Sorry.”

Donna sniffs. Cameron’s wings flex out, deliberately brushing over Donna’s bare forearms, and the soft touch of her dirty off-brown feathers feels like a peace offering. Donna takes it for that. It’s hard to stay mad at Cameron forever, even though sometimes it lasts a while. 

Donna goes back to grooming Cameron’s wings. At least they’re pretty things, when they’re properly taken care of, maybe bigger than they should be for Cameron’s slender frame and perhaps a little ragged at even the best of times, but still lean and beautiful, _wild_ and breathtaking, like their owner. Donna gets them mostly in shape, though a wash would go a long way. At least when she’s done, they don’t look quite so broken anymore. 

She steps out from behind Cameron, hand drifting to Cameron’s shoulder instead. Cameron looks up at her and offers a telling smile, silent but thick with emotion. Donna can see the appreciation in them. 

She leans down and pecks Cameron’s forehead, murmuring, “Don’t do it again.”

Cameron snorts, but she’s still smiling fondly as Donna settles in to talk.


End file.
